


radius of a semi-circle

by spills



Series: a place to put our hands [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akagi is simply amused, Atsumu is not impressed, JJK!au, Komori has nice grin, M/M, MINOR DESCRIPTIONS OF VIOLENCE, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:46:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27717674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spills/pseuds/spills
Summary: Atsumu flips him the bird, "Get yerself cursed, Komori-kun. And don’t call me Miya. Atsumu is fine." Akagi sighs, mumbling something about children being insufferable and how maybe everyone here deserves to get eaten alive.
Relationships: Komori Motoya/Miya Atsumu
Series: a place to put our hands [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2027513
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18





	radius of a semi-circle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [limeprint](https://archiveofourown.org/users/limeprint/gifts).



> it started with komori having a bat. then the bat proceeded to have teeth and a tongue. now the bat is cursed and so is everyone else. big thanks to lia, kuro, vic and jane for letting me wail about it spontaneously njskjfnjsnfs

“Oh! You’re the Miya aren’t you,” a mop of brown hair pops out from behind Akagi and Atsumu can’t help but grit his teeth, already feeling offended at the newcomer. He sends his teacher a withering look to which Akagi only shrugs, gives a lazy smile and offers a wink that can be translated as _play nice_. 

Sure, maybe Atsumu does owe Akagi quite a bit (quite a lot) for allowing him to cut ties with his family in the first place, but he doesn’t see the point in playing nice to someone that apparently hasn’t gotten the memo. Even before Atsumu can correct eyeblob over there, he continues with a whistle, “Damn, you and your brother really do share the same face huh?” 

Atsumu crosses his arms, feeling his eyebrow twitch at how the other boy runs his mouth, because it’s clear that he’s not simply a _nobody_ due to recognizing him by surname and implicitly catching a glimpse of the brother he hasn’t seen in half-a-year, but is _nobody enough_ that Atsumu doesn’t recognize him. 

“What’s it to ya?” Atsumu snaps, jaw clicking and Akagi raises his eyebrow in amusement stepping away from the other boy for the two of them to have “proper greetings.” Atsumu wrinkles his nose as the other boy giggles, thinking that nothing about this situation is funny, and frankly finds himself feeling more and more aggravated, seriously considering cursing the other boy.

“Not much,” the other boy beams back at him, “Just heard things about you,” and Atsumu bristles at that. “Good things!” the other boy adds while raising both his hands, “Except for the part where you’re apparently a real big asshole,” he muses. 

“I swear to god-” Atsumu rolls up his sleeves, and maybe he should have anticipated day one of meeting a fellow first year would end up in a fistfight in front of a _cursed building_. He’s gonna kill the boy in front of him first, then deal with whatevers crawling in there alone. He’s done much of this alone already, and Akagi can testify that, only Akagi chooses now to step in and clears his throat with his cough that Atsumu can tell is disguised laughter. What a fucking asshole.

“Komori - ya probably should introduce yerself first,” Akagi nudges his classmate who goes _oops_ , “Take the edge off Atsumu, he’s kinda like a child that needs to be able identify allies inside out.” 

“Yeah, I would,” Komori agrees but follows up with, “but full names have power and I don’t think I want to give that kind of power to a son of a noble sorcerer clan. He seems pretty ready to murder me where I stand and I appreciate not being murdered in my sleep Akagi-sensei.” 

“Well, if ya weren’t such a rude little shit, I wouldn’t even have to consider killing you in the first place,” Atsumu growls. 

His classmate laughs, bright and loud as if he has just heard a very funny joke. “Okay okay, name’s Komori,” deliberately leaving out his first name yet meets Atsumu eye to eye, “I’m excited to be studying with you Miya.” 

Atsumu flips him the bird, "Get yerself cursed, Komori-kun. And don’t call me Miya. Atsumu is fine." Akagi sighs, mumbling something about children being insufferable and how maybe everyone here deserves to get eaten alive. 

* * *

“I don’t know what yer fuckin’ deal is Komori-kun but ya better not get in my way. I won’t hesitate to let a curse eat ya up if yer dead weight.” 

The two of them were herded into the warehouse by Akagi who had promised to be outside waiting with milkshakes or coffee or whatever kids liked these days. Utter crap from the man though, who’s at most - what? Maybe at most a decade older than them? Which would make Akagi 25 years old, so by right he should be considered _the youth_ too. 

At least, that’s probably what the elders back home would say. When Akagi had taken Atsumu under his wing away from the Miya household, he had been under scrutiny, and maybe - if it weren’t for his brother being the **_perfect_** heir, Atsumu would have ended up back in solitary confinement. Dragged back with a few broken limbs, but ultimately left to heal. 

Looking at Komori now, Atsumu can’t help but feel his temper rising if only because of how carefree and careless the other boy is looking while he’s stretching out his back, arms over his head as their footsteps echo in the empty hallway, solid rubber that presses against cracked ceramic tile. Komori's limbs don't bother to carry any weight as he drags a baseball bat all wrapped up in talismans against the filthy floor, bright eyed and cheery and it's making Atsumu sick. 

"Are you worried about me, Miya?" Atsumu feels his jaw tick - hating the sound of his family name, "because if you are, you don't need to be! I don't get cold feet easily," Komori laughs and anyone who laughs that much is probably a little bit insane, especially in what could be a life or death situation. Akagi wouldn't do that to them, seeing this is their first mission together - but sometimes, accidents happens and that's out of any adult's control.

Akagi had pulled him aside to ruffle his hair, tell him to look out for the other boy, made a point to mention how there would only be three first years this time around. Atsumu has already met the other first year, a boy with sharp olive eyes, pale skin and pretty hands that apparently played the piano previously. The other first year also has bad manners because instead of offering even a simple _thanks_ for saving his life - he had instead commented on Atsumu's badly bleached hair. The thought of spending the next three years with his _fellow_ first-years makes Atsumu want to bite his own tongue. Paired together with a couple of greenhorns, he can't think of a worst way to be dragged down into the dirt. 

(His family ancestors are probably laughing at him now. From hell most likely.) 

Atsumu sneers at the other boy, chin raised and nose high. Atsumu is willing to bet that the other first year is nothing more than a scrub with his chest all puffed up. Akagi-san had made a point to mention that this excursion was also to test the extent of Komori’s abilities - resilience especially. Curses were physically grotesque and if your stomach couldn’t handle looking something ugly, then becoming a sorcerer shouldn’t have been a consideration in the first place. 

_Scrubs should just stay out of the way_ , he bites his tongue because Akagi-san had pointedly told him to at least try to prevent the other boy from getting hurt. It wasn’t as if Atsumu _liked_ seeing others get injured, he just hated that he when know-nothings threw themselves into the field recklessly and had nothing to show for it. Carelessly, he slings an arm around Komori’s shoulder, “Well, if yer fine on yer own, then you don’t mind if we split up then, yeah?”

He’s a little taller than his classmate, so he supposes that he’ll leverage his height as he sees fit. Komori doesn’t seem to mind the too-familiar gesture or how Atsumu has gotten up close and personal within his space. Komori cocks his head to the side considering Atsumu’s suggestion. “I don’t mind if it’s more efficient, but I’m pretty inclined to think that you probably just want me dead,” Komori strings the words with no malice, steps away from Atsumu and lets his bat scrape against the floor. 

His classmate raises his bat over his head, tilts his head back to have electric blue eyes meet Atsumu’s, “Tell me where you want me golden boy, and I’ll have your back so don’t turn around till your finished.” 

Atsumu feels his cheeks warm up at Komori’s tone, but refuses to back down. “Weak curses always gather together so I’m leaving the ground floor to you Komori-kun,” and this where their paths will diverge for a bit, “There’s something a little nastier upstairs and I wouldn’t wantcha getting hurt,” Atsumu drawls as the air starts to become heavier. The curses in this building are getting impatient, goosebumps rising on his skin as the curses start calling out to him, to _them_. 

“Be a good boy and clean the bottom floor up for me, ‘kay?” Atsumu gets the last word in before he finally starts his sprint up the stairs.

* * *

Grade 3s are a piece of cake for him, mid-tier beings that have no worth, weak things haunting other weak individuals. 

A flick of the wrist and he has half of the room’s curses pinned against the wall, doesn’t bother watching them writhe pitifully against the wall before dissolving into dust, leaving no trace behind. Higher-tier grade 3 centre of the room and Atsumu lunges, making quick work of it too - sticking his tantou in its chest, the curse’s screeches barely registering in his ears. He wishes pigs would just keep their mouths shut and learn how to die with a little more dignity. There are some worms trying to escape from the only exit in the room but Atsumu doesn’t give them the chance for that either, another flick of the wrist and his blades slice through them clean, aim impeccable. 

Power like this feels good, slicing the ringmaster of this room cleanly into two. 

Atsumu expends a little extra to keep his uniform clean, make sure nothing no cursed residue gets on his skin either because he already has the taste of curses sticking to his insides, doesn’t need his flesh to be stained filthy too. He gives a soft sigh, looks at the mess around him and shrugs. Aftermaths weren’t part of his job description in the first place. 

(Might have been in another life, but this life? He’s free. He clawed for freedom, left his family and would discard this surname that sticks to him like a brand, but doesn’t. His name is the only thing alongside his face that he shares with ‘Samu after all.)

“Pick somewhere better to haunt next time and maybe your afterlife will last a little longer.” 

It’s pathetic, clinging to a life that’s no longer yours. Atsumu takes his time walking down the stairs despite the screams that can be heard from all the way up here. None of them sound like they belong to a high school boy so Atsumu refuses to worry too much. It’s loud though and the screeches grate against the inside of his ears. 

Reaching the foot of the stairs, there’s grey matter and blood splattered, in the middle of being splattered, and Atsumu doesn’t have time to dodge that. Previous efforts of not getting his clothes dirty wasted because there’s Komori with his accursed bat, rushing past him to bludgeon the shit out of a curse once, twice. 

Fucking lunatic has a grin on a his face, manic energy glinting in his irises making him look like a feral animal with blood on his cheek. Komori only lets his body go loose when the curse starts to dissipate, the grip on his bat turning lax. He blinks once, twice, before turning his head back, finally noticing Atsumu. 

“Shit, sorry,” Komori’s grin turns apologetic, as if he’s a kid who was caught with his hands red, sneaking another cookie out of the jar instead of having a witness to what Atsumu would consider a murder scene. If he thought his work upstairs was a headache to clean, well, at least they’ll be dealing with Komori’s mess first. 

The boy swings his bat over his shoulder, still looking carefree as he was before entering the building, and there’s blood on the bat’s bandages. It’s going to stick against his skin. Gross. That’s so gross. Atsumu grimaces and Komori pouts at him, “Don’t be like that! Not all of us are seasoned sorcerers like you,” cocks his head to the side cutely, as if a puppy and not a potential axe-murderer. He smiles, eyes crescenting, “But hey I got the job done right? No need for you to worry your pretty head over me, and I got the bottom floor _all_ cleaned up like you asked.”

“What,” Atsumu blurts out, “Do ya want me to call ya a good boy too, Komori-kun?” 

Komori hums as if he’s seriously considering, “A compliment’s a compliment so I’ll take whatever you’re going to give Miya,” and Atsumu only stares at the other boy incredulously. “Akagi-sensei’s probably back and outside waiting for us though, so maybe we can have a friendlier conversation on the way back to school.” 

“Nope, no way,” Atsumu feels his flush for god knows why, “Don’t talk to me. No.” 

Komori walks ahead, laughing so loud that his lungs should burst, Atsumu is wishing they would if only that would stop the sound. Komori’s probably the type to laugh in the middle of getting roughed up since clearly he’s the type to laugh while giving a beatdown. 

Akagi had told Atsumu to gauge how crazy the other boy could be, since being a sorcerer wasn’t for the faint hearted. Maybe Akagi will be pleased to know that _congrats! One of your students is most definitely a crazy son of a bitch._

Fuck being a first year born in 1996. If he was born a little earlier, then maybe he could have been in the same grade as Akaashi-senpai. 

“Miya?” comes Komori’s inquiring voice, “Hurry up! Or did you get eaten by something spooky?”

“Shut yer trap!” Atsumu hollers back, doesn’t run to the door but simply quickens his walking pace, “and for the love of god, stop calling me Miya.”

“Not gonna call you Atsumu though, we aren’t close enough for that yet,” Komori teases with giggle. 

Atsumu snorts at that, “Fuck you. It’s not like I want to get all snuggled up and cozy to you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> im probably going to continue this au on and off whenever my fancy is stricken! aside from that, tell me all ur itachiyama + inarizaki thots on [ twitter!! ](https://twitter.com/rinrintoya)
> 
> and if ur curious about what goes on in kyoto, and what's atsumu's deal, please check [ this ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27637196) out by [ kuro!! ](https://twitter.com/shokurensei)


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